


Amyas

by iletaitunparadis



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (eventually) - Freeform, Anal Sex, Blood, Brownham, Gore, Graphic Sex, M/M, Mukozuke, Season 2, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iletaitunparadis/pseuds/iletaitunparadis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>mukozuke-onwards based. matthew brown escapes from jack crawford and alana bloom after his attempt to kill hannibal lecter, and makes his intentions toward will graham clear. hannibal, however, has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amyas

**Author's Note:**

> basically changing the ending of mukozuke and seeing where it goes from then on - because i can't get brownham off my brain and matthew brown is a bamf who needs more love.
> 
> everything belongs to NBC hannibal apart from this original storyline.

“Did you know that a red-tailed hawk will only take a new mate after its original partner dies? You and I are hawks, Mr. Graham, and you have lost your partner. He has betrayed you. Imagine if you and I started working together...now that could be what I call a true friendship.”

Matthew hisses the word ‘friendship’ with a smirk which makes Will’s stomach twist uneasily with an overwhelming combination of fear and lust. He stays deathly still as Matthew approaches his cage and peers at him through the wrought iron bars, like a predator inspecting its prey. He watches the way his eyes shimmer in the dim light of the therapy hall as he speaks, like there’s a fire behind them, driving his every word. He says nothing and lets Matthew continue.

“Their solidarity is their weakness.” They are face-to-face now, only a few inches between them. The way Matthew looks at him - head tilted slightly, unblinking - is almost condescending, but Will knows that is not his intention. He wants to _see_ Will, and in turn, for Will to see him. Understand him. It is just like Hannibal said.

Hannibal…Will can feel a lump rising in his throat, that urge to scream until his vocal chords are rendered useless surfacing again. But, still, he keeps quiet. Almost on cue, Matthew leans back and voices his thoughts with disturbing accuracy. “Your loneliness will be your downfall, Mr. Graham. Nothing to keep you from all those pesky little thoughts flying around in your head.”

Will knows he’s right, though he tries not to show it. As Matthew brings him out of his cage, allowing him to step out into the gloom and dust, in his mind he runs through the words that he has wanted to utter ever since he was put in this godforsaken place. _I want you to kill Hannibal Lecter_. Words that have never been truer should be so easy to say, and Brown is perfect opportunity for revenge. And yet…

“You saw my poem, of course.” Brown says into his ear, and it’s almost a whisper, a seductive threat. _You better notice me or else. After all, my love, I hold the keys in this relationship_. “I hope you appreciated that. The bailiff was a bitch to get on the stag’s head.” Will nearly laughs at the man’s casual manner: he makes the task of killing someone seems so banal, as routine as folding prisoner’s jumpsuits or delivering their dinners.

Will cannot think of anything that Hannibal Lecter would approve of less.

They have reached his cell now, and as Matthew locks him away for the night, Will reaches through the bars and tentatively takes his hand. The action even shocks he himself, and Matthew’s intense eyes widen ever so slightly and flicker down the corridor to check for hawk-eyed guards. Satisfied that they are drenched in darkness, he covers Will’s cold and clammy hand with his own, tugging him closer so their noses are almost touching.

For a few moments, they say nothing, safe in a feeling of mutual understanding and misbelonging. The sound of their breathing seems to echo heavily within the thick, forbidding walls, a comforting rhythm that eases both of their minds. Finally, it is Will who speaks.

“I want you to do something for me.”

Matthew licks his lips, and Will can feel his pulse thrumming in his ears. The grip on his hand grows tighter. “Anything.” is the reply. Somewhere down the corridor, in a cell as lonely as Will’s own, Abel Gideon stirs. His ears perk up, listening intently to the conversation between the two men, but Will does not think of him. For him, Gideon is just a pale ghost of a past he wants to keep long forgotten.

“Matthew,” Will says, “I want you to kill Hannibal Lecter.”

With those words, Matthew’s eyes seem to be suddenly set ablaze. He looks at Will, looks through him, but he does not reply. He doesn't have to.


End file.
